The Queen's Handmaiden

The fire was wild and the smoke clouds rose thick making it impossible to enter or leave the small cottage at the edge of the town. The blood-curdling screams of those burning alive inside could be heard from the town square. The woman inside the house was trying to save at least one of her little ones from the fire that was mercilessly consuming her home with everything and everyone in it. The cottage had caught fire suddenly on a very hot summer's day. One would think it was nothing but the sun’s doing. The middle-aged farmer’s family had gathered for a lunch break in the cottage. The wife had prepared the lunch and at the last minute asked her eldest, twelve-year-old girl to ‘quickly run to the shrubbery and grab some fresh mint for your father.’ The rest of the four, two twin sisters and two younger brothers waited around the table for food. The farmer had been working all day on the golden wheat fields ready for harvest. The farmer’s wife had just come back from town school, where she was one of the best-qualified teachers. No one suspected the calamity that followed. In the blink of an eye, something smelled of burning wood which then started scorching the cottage and in a matter of seconds, the family was trapped inside and suffocating with no way out. By the time the twelve-year-old returned with a bunch of fresh aromatic mint in her young hands, all that was left was huge waves of fire swallowing the small cottage like a hungry lion who had been starving for eons. The girl tried to run in to save her family but was stopped violently by the townspeople who had gathered. The fire was too angry to be controlled, all attempts of the townspeople to put it out from the outside were futile. The little girl stood, sobbing and watching as her family and home ended up in ashes right before her eyes, still holding the mint that her mother had sent her to buy for her father. It took many hours before the cottage was nothing but a heap of debris and the screams had long been silenced. Only thin grey smoke rose from the rubble now. The sun had almost set and soon it was going to be dark but the little girl had nowhere to go. She picked herself up. Now she stood alone in front of the smokey ash that was her home a few hours ago. The townspeople left in the first hour, after having given up hope for any survivor, and they had their own lives to deal with rather than watch a lost cause. The girl barefoot, the mint that wasn’t so fresh anymore still clutched in one hand, stumbled towards the destroyed place, stubbornly refusing to leave. The ashes were still full of heat even though there was no more wood for the fire to eat, some embers still flickered here and there. Alone, she found her mother’s gold necklace, which was originally her grandmother's, and a single family photograph that was put outside and had managed to avoid the fire altogether, along with a few toys, dolls, and books, belonging to her brothers, sisters, and mother respectively, stuff that somehow had been left untouched by the beasty fire, probably by falling in the bucket of water placed to make sure leaky kitchen sink didn’t spread water everywhere. She called for her father and mother and brothers and sisters until her throat was raw and she could not speak anymore. But no one answered. No one, except an old lady in her fifties. She took the little girl, soothed her, and helped her understand the tragedy that had befallen her. She took her to her own tiny cottage, bathed her, fed her, gave her some clean clothes to change into, and allowed her to sleep beside her to not feel alone and scared. The girl hadn’t spoken a word since she got explained why her ‘mama’ wouldn’t answer and where her siblings and father had gone. In the morning, the old lady took the little girl to the palace of the king to be taken under the wing of some maid who worked there, for the sake of the little girl’s nice upbringing and use. The maid was a young woman in her early twenties, who looked a lot older due to the toll of her duties and life. She was the old lady’s daughter and worked in the palace as head maid. The little girl had been given her clothes to wear by the old lady the night before. The young woman spoke kindly to the little girl, who still carried the stuff she had salvaged from the burnt cottage and absolutely refused to let go of the mint, “Hi, I am Martha. What’s your name, sweetie?” The little scared and grieving twelve-year-old replied in a small voice, “Jane-Anne.” ♕♕♕♕♕ The screams were audible and felt so real, the heat of the flames causing sweat and suffocation, and the flashes mingled with the smell of burnt flesh were irritating. A young girl’s voice cried out, “Mama! Papa!” and she woke up from her nightmare, breathing hard and still trying to make sense of what was real and what was a dream, of what was present and what had happened thirteen years ago. The morning was about to break. Jane-Anne could hear the morning birds already up and singing. Due to the reason for her disturbed sleep, it was futile trying to go back to bed. So the young lady made her cot, freshened up, and got ready for another day at the palace as the Queen’s personal handmaiden. Thirteen years ago, Martha had adopted Jane and taught her ways of the palace. She was brought up by the maids and learned to do most of the stuff. When she was sixteen years old, she caught the eye of the Queen herself, who quickly appointed Jane as her handmaiden and took her out of the maid's quarters and straight into the Queen’s chambers, and dining halls, and ballrooms. Everything that Jane had only read about in the books she secretly read, teaching herself to read and write in memory of her mother, who wanted Jane to grow up to be a teacher one day like herself. Now Jane was the Queen’s favorite, she had made the queen smile when she had lost all hope and was nothing more than a tragic sad mess. The Queen had suffered at the hands of politics. After having given birth to her first son, she had been poisoned by the kingdom’s enemies. Even though she survived, the poison attacked her fertility and she miscarried many of her children. It did not only affect her health but also her mind, sending her into a deep depression. It was the sixteen-year-old Jane-Anne who had reignited the spark of the Queen’s life and made her smile for the first time in years. For this, the king himself had thanked her, and over the years she had been treated as the daughter they never had. She shared meals with them and spent most of her day doing this and that, with the Queen. Of course, she was no real princess and everyone knew that, but she was more than just a maid too. Jane sighed as she stepped into the crisp morning air. It was springtime but the morning chill of winter had yet to leave. She inhaled the sweet breeze that smelled of the flowers from the royal gardens beside which she lived in her quarters. Her foster mother, Martha, lived with her and still worked in the Palace, but now only of little help here and there in the royal kitchens. Jane picked up a small cane basket and headed straight to the garden. She greeted the old head gardener, Paul, who had woken up before dawn like always and prepared a bouquet like every day for Jane. “Morning, Paul!” She smiled. “Not until half an hour later, child.” He teased. “You know what I mean.” She laughed softly before going quiet. “Another nightmare?” He asked gently. She nodded with downcast eyes and a sigh. “Same?” He asked again. She nodded with a sigh, eyes still downcast, again. He knew all about her past and did not push her to talk about it. The tragedy Jane had faced at such a tender age was too much on its own and didn’t need reminding. The nightmares still haunted her and a permanent fear of fire had been etched into her mind forever. Overall, she was a nice and sweet girl, spreading smiles and full of realistic optimism. A bit quiet when need be and outspoken and confident if the occasion called for it, her intelligence, beauty, and humor were what had attracted the queen that day, because no lowly maid had ever had such mannerisms added to such smart behavior. Jane walked among aisles of flowers in the garden for a while, before it was time for the queen to wake up. Perks of being the Queen’s favorite handmaiden included entry into the royal gardens at any time of the day, something which wasn’t allowed to any other servant. “It’s a big day today,” Paul stated jovially. Jane knew what special event he was referring to but opted to only ‘hmm’ in response. “It’s been three years. Do you think he would still treat you the way he did before or they might’ve taught him some manners?” Jane only gave Paul a look, before shaking her head, “Paul!” He shrugged innocently and she stated, “He is the prince of this kingdom and he is the heir and our future king, which is why he went to The Regiim Academy and you know it! How he treated me was exactly how a prince should’ve treated his mother’s handmaiden. No more, no less. Have you ever heard me complain about his professionalism? No! Because I agree with his manners.” Her tone suggested there was not going to be any argument after that. She turned around and went after saying, “He went there to learn how to lead the kingdom, not how to treat handmaidens.” She picked up the fresh set of roses and jasmines for the queen when the daylight began spreading across the kingdom and made her way toward the queen’s chambers. The Queen was already up and getting ready with the help of her maids. Her woe–aged, once beautiful, face lit up in a smile at the sight of Jane-Anne, who presented the flower basket like always. The Queen sniffed and began chatting non-stop to Jane about her excitement about the day to come. This was the opposite of the once tragedy-stricken queen that she had been till a few years ago, but it was a nice change and everyone knew Jane-Anne was to thank for it. “O dear, I can’t wait to see my son again. These years have been too long.” Jane smiled genuinely at her joy and the queen kept up her joyful monologue, sometimes telling things directly to Jane and sometimes simply talking to herself out loud. “Oh, today he comes back and tonight the festival starts. So many princesses and noble ladies have accepted our invitations to join us this week to compete for my son. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful. It is going to be so exciting. I will see my son sit on his father’s throne, and cherish him in a groom's suit, and finally, there will be small children, my grandchildren playing in this palace. You will see, Anne, my son will be the best king this kingdom has ever seen. Are the flowers ready? Make sure his favorite flowers are ready. Oh! Have you made sure the cooks are following Richie’s favorite menu? Please do. Oh and-” “My Queen, take a deep breath. Inhale and Exhale.” Jane smiled and interrupted the queen softly. The queen sighed. She knew she was over-excited, but could anyone blame her? She thanked Jane for the flowers and for being there because the years had taken their toll on the queen’s health and she had had breathing problems of late.